The Romancer Onyxbane
Episode Seventeen:
The nobles and officers could not agree on what to do, and the trial went on far longer than it should have, with so much at stake. Opalbane could take the fall, yes, and then the Archmage would be free of blame. But then, even Tyrande would have to live in a world where all of the Alliance knew that a star priestess of Elune had fallen to the Twilight Cultists. And then, the rogues were happy to roast Wisthera over an open pit, but Shadowstep was very aware that there were people in the Horde who'd caught wind of his secret investigation of suspected Twilight Cultists among the leaders of the Alliance. He would have to invest in silencing the matter quickly before his enemies heard too much from the echoes of the trial in Stormwind. In the end, it was not a matter of whether or not justice would be served. Priestess Feathershine understood very well that the people in charge wanted to find a solution that would keep everyone looking good. They'd tried to peg a scapegoat in Willypearl a few months ago, but that hadn't worked. Now, they were leaning heavily on Opalbane, and Wisthera's poor reputation was making it very easy. But the Kaldorei responsible for these ladies would have them fall only so far. That is why Priestess Feathershine rounded up the people in her party and went to the man with the most at stake in the matter, determined to set things right.
"…So, as you can see honorable Archmage, this was all a grave misunderstanding. We did not mean to imply any lack of judgment on your part, only show that Opalbane and Willypearl were imprisoned by mistake. Surely, we can just dismiss this whole thing."
"I think not!" the Archmage looked at Priestess Feathershine like she had two heads, and then balked at Onyxbane, Wisthera, and Willypearl who were standing behind her. Of course, there were a few doe-eyed novices as always. "You've made a mockery of the Mages of Stormwind. That is unforgivable."
"We're not poking fun at anything, Archmage. It was a mistake, I accept that. I just wanna move on with my life. Opalbane is a good friend, and I want her to be able to move on too." Willypearl said.
"Where is Opalbane? You've brought this circus to my doorstep, but not the ringleader? That's a sorry performance." The Archmage leaned back in his elaborate wooden chair, and flicked his wrists so that the long red sleeves of his robe fell outside the armrests. His office was filled with elaborate furniture and rich dark colors that smacked of wealth and power.
"As I said before the other judges, Archmage, Opalbane is not well at all. She is suffering because of what the cultists did to her. It would be shameful to her family as well as a disgrace to the court for them to see her the way she is."
"Am I to believe that she is suffering if I haven't seen her?"
"I should think that you would honor the accounts of her health that your priests make at the Cathedral of Light." Feathershine admonished. "They are doing everything they can to heal her. It's a disease of her mana, you see, and being around all that fel energy and under the influence of the old gods crystallized in Silithus—"
"Enough of that! You're intimate knowledge of the Twilight Hammer is most offensive, priestess."
"Dear sir, we Kaldorei know more about the old gods than anyone else in Azeroth, and it is our business to know whether or not our world remains safe."
"Save the trolls, priestess. I hear there is not much difference between Night Elves and those wretched creatures who built altars to the old gods." That insult hit home and caused all the Night Elves in the room to draw startled breaths.
"This is nonsense!" Wisthera spoke up. "We all know what is really going on here. You do not want to get in trouble, nor do the priests in Stormwind or Ironforge, or anywhere else that Opalbane went and found difficulty. You know that Shadowstep has viable evidence against you."
Already, the Archmage was shaking his head, denying it.
"I speak for everyone here when I say that I do not care if you are guilty! It is of no consequence… we only ask that you stop torturing someone who never deserved it. If you let Opalbane go, let it all go, and cease having these pointless conventions, then no one will have to suffer this way again. That would be the end of it." Wisthera continued.
"You will not trick me into saying that I've done something that I did not do, rogue."
Wisthera threw her hands up in the air, exasperated.
Priestess Feathershine flew into another speech about forgiveness when the Archmage abruptly stood up behind his desk and raised a hand for silence.
"That is quite enough. I can tell you care for the young lady, but I've read all the correspondence, along with the reports from Stormwind. Whether it was in the letters Willypearl sent to Opalbane, or in notes the ladies shared with Wisthera over the years, or observations from SI:7 that prove Opalbane went to Silithus of her own accord… all if it shows that this young lady, was in fact an agent of dark evil, however hard this is to hear. I must act accordingly. Now, please, go."
"My sister is not like that." Onyxbane firmly objected though the others had turned to leave. "She's a loving person, though unkind, and yea, she can be really creepy at times. But she's angry about losing our parents, and having no friends… despite our coming here, I bet she's still lying in that bed in the Cathedral of Light, convinced that no one loves her, because someone wanted her to believe it. All of us here, in this room did everything in our power to make her see differently, but there are horrible people out there with more power than we have… it's not her fault."
"Nor is it yours, young man. Nor is it mine. But it is your sister's."
"But I can prove it." Onyxbane objected.
The Archmage sighed. "How, in Azeroth, are you going to achieve that? I've read everything there is to read, talked to all the other judges already, and frankly, your insistence is pressing me to rule here and now. This is exhausting."
Onyxbane took the little book he had out from where it was lodged in his belt and put it on the Archmage's large mahogany desk.
"It's… a journal. My journal. I wrote down everything I knew and learned, every day that we were gone. It shows that my sister has a real personality problem, and a drinking problem, but that she isn't a true agent of the Twilight Hammer."
Wisthera was looking at Onyxbane, amazed. "You don't have a journal! You don't like to write."
"No, I don't, but I kept one anyway. I saw how important those letters Wisthera had were to freeing Willypearl, and I thought maybe I could do the same for my sister."
"Or, you had enough time to write it all on the ship over here. I'm not going to waste my time reading this elaborate forgery."
"It's in ink, so you can see that some passages are more faded and were written weeks earlier than others. The part in pencil is because I had to trade my ink with a druid in Silithus."
Curious, the Archmage opened the book and began reading.
"It shows that we had no time to make up anything at all. We were constantly running here or there, never docking for very long. Yes, I had ample time on the ship, but… well, I was busy with other things. My own problems got in the way of me doing anything so clever."
The Archmage seemed fixed on one page in particular, but had to make himself stop reading with an effort. "This may all be very interesting, but I don't see how it helps your sister. Beyond that, it's completely biased coming from you."
"Maybe, but it's the truth, and anyone who reads it will see that we're not covering for Opalbane because there's nothing to cover. She had a hard life, and we had a heck of a time figuring that out for ourselves. But that's all."
The women in the room hadn't any words for the warrior who was supposed to be a meathead and pervert, but hardly a hero.
"I want a copy of that for Darnassus." Feathershine said quickly, stepping forward.
"And I'll have one made for the Library in Stormwind, don't worry. But none of that is very important if this is useless." The Archmage warned.
"Well, it isn't. Actually, it's pretty damn embarrassing, and I can't believe I'm really showing it to someone else."
"I thought that was always your intention, Onyxbane." The Archmage thumped the tattered journal with his knuckle.
"Maybe that's how it started out, but I think I'm going to regret being so honest now." He frowned, and Feathershine, Wisthera, and Willypearl looked horrified.